


Familiar

by TheRaven99



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Has Magic (Merlin), Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Everyone ships Merthur, Except Uther, F/M, Familiars, Getting Together, He deserves it tbh, Idiots in Love, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Kilgharrah is an useless reptile as usual, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin tells Arthur about Morgana's magic, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Minor Character Death, Morgana's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mutual Pining, Nobody is Dead, Oblivious Arthur, Redeemed Morgana (Merlin), Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Sort Of, he thinks so at least, updates once a week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:00:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaven99/pseuds/TheRaven99
Summary: Merlin finds a familiar, and grows close with it, finding that he can trust it completely. Arthur grows jealous of that trust. Eventually, he finds out what his manservant has been hiding for so long, and why the stranger that seemed to come out of thin air is so close to Merlin.Also, the familiar is absolutely trying to couple them, and Merlin is trying to not get his heart broken when Arthur finds out about his magic and has him killed, completely oblivious to the fact that Arthur has already offered to die for him, and that kind of care doesn't disappear overnight.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), minor gwen/lancelot
Comments: 115
Kudos: 296





	1. Alexander

It started, as many things do, with a problem. It is widely known that men rarely advance without problems to solve and that they often lead them to unexpected conclusions in their efforts to solve them. 

This time, the problem was a rat. The rat did not consider itself a problem, of course, and Merlin had nothing against its existence if it had not chosen to subsist by eating Arthur’s shoes, which undoubtedly attracted it with their smell of cheese (Arthur had thrown one of his boots at him when he had suggested it, although Merlin had thought it quite humorous). 

So the young warlock was left to look for the rodent while Arthur used a pair of old boots and had his mended. Of course, the problem was not one that quite required any original thinking on his part: the art of trapping animals has long been discovered by mankind, and so he placed a piece of bread strategically on the floor and waited, ready to strike as soon as he saw the offending animal. 

It did not take long, and one would think that the story is quite pointless, since catching a rat was not a great feat for one such as Merlin, who had saved Arthur’s royal ass a great number of times before, except that when he saw the rat, it was black as coal. It looked at him with intelligent eyes, as if it knew it was a trap and was resigned to die, but with a full belly at least. Merlin just didn’t have the courage to strike with the broom he had ready in his hands and tried opening the door and shooing it away, to no avail. The animal stood there, in the middle of the floor, looking at him, and then Merlin heard someone talk to him:

“Well, are you just going to stay there watching?” The voice asked.

Merlin turned around, fearing that Arthur was back and going to hit him with his broom for not killing the rat, but there was nobody there. He frowned and looked back inside. There was no other living being in that room besides him and…

No. Animals did not speak. Right? Merlin suddenly felt sick to his stomach, remembering the stew he had so happily eaten earlier with Gaius. If he found out animals had a conscience, he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep eating them.

“I’m sorry, are you… are you the rat talking to me?” He asked as politely as he could.

The rat stared at him. Merlin laughed. Of course, the rat wasn’t talking to him, what had he been thinking about?

“You know, if you were trying to kill me, you’re doing a very poor job at it,” the voice pointed out. 

The rat sniffed the bread. Merlin was pretty sure it had heard the voice coming from where the rat was. He dropped the broom, feeling the blood rush from his face. He turned around and ran away from the room, not even stopping when Arthur called him as he passed by, not stopping until he was in Gaius’ quarters. The old man looked up at him as he locked the door, raising his eyebrow in a way that meant that he was quite worried. After all, Merlin had a habit of getting caught in everything that happened in the castle, and yet something had still shaken him like that. He got up, helping the boy he considered his son into a chair and asked him what was wrong.

“I… heard a rat talk to me,” he replied, still considerably pale. 

Gaius raised his eyebrow a bit more, this time in surprise.

“Well, that’s odd. Last time I checked, animals couldn’t talk with humans. Unless…” He made his way to his books, looking for one in particular. He took it and opened it, passing some pages. “Here it is. Some magic users can communicate with spirits that can take the form of animals, and rarely, those spirits will bind themselves to a warlock or witch that they deem worthy, and serve them. They are called familiars.”

Merlin had slowly regained his natural color and blinked a few times.

“So, not all animals can talk? They… don’t have a conscience, right?” He asked, hopefully. He wasn’t ready to stop eating meat, especially since he had to run after Arthur all the time, and he needed energy for it.

Gaius shook his head, amused. Merlin sighed with relief and slumped back into the chair.

“A familiar, huh? Well, I doubt he thought I was worthy of much… it just laughed at me,” Merlin laughed merrily. Now that he wasn’t in shock, the whole thing seemed pretty funny.

“You say it took the form of a rat… The form they choose to present themselves to you says something about the spirit, and you as well. They are used to living between humans, even though they are disliked and hunted, and they are way more intelligent than they seem,” Gaius commented, looking at the young warlock with a smile.

Merlin had to admit it, he had far more in common with rats than he would have thought. He didn’t dislike them that much, except when he had to get rid of them for…

“Arthur,” Merlin said, getting up. He was pretty sure he would kill the spirit-rat or whatever it was if he saw it in his chambers. The warlock rushed to Arthur’s chambers, feeling quite relieved when he confirmed that the prince hadn’t gotten back from his training yet.

“Hey, where are you? You have to come out, or the idiot’s going to kill you, and then kill me for not killing you,” he whispered, hoping that the spirit would hear him and come out of whatever hole it was in. 

“You think it’s actually going to work?” 

Merlin hit his head on the bed while trying to get away from it to face Arthur, putting his best innocent face even as he felt something climb up his leg. He had never realized just how sharp a rat’s nails were. 

“I don’t know, sire, I thought I might as well try. I laid out a trap, but I guess it was too smart,” he replied with a shrug, smiling. 

“I see, a rat has outwitted you,” Arthur replied, shaking his head. He wasn’t exactly sure of how his manservant managed to be so dumb. Sometimes he got the impression that he was just acting dumb, he couldn’t just be like that and still be alive, but then, he seemed to be quite lucky. Arthur had found that when Merlin was around, things tended to just fall on the right people at the right moment. Perhaps that was how he had stayed alive for so long.

“Yes, sire. I guess I’m going to have to polish your armor again,” he replied, taking it off of him, feeling the small nails digging into the skin on his back, and doing his best to avoid showing any discomfort in his face. 

Arthur looked back at him.

“You look like you have to go to the bathroom.” Merlin smiled nervously.

“Now that you mention it…” He rushed out, running back to his room and taking out the rat from his clothes. It looked at him.

“You saved my life. That was quite nice. I think you’d be a worthy master,” the rat told him.

The warlock blinked. He wasn’t going to get used to that any time soon, he thought, but nodded slowly.

“Wait, why would you want a master? Isn’t it better to be free?”

“It’s a mutually beneficial relationship. I can’t maintain my physical form for long while not bound, but that’s certainly better than serving a master I don’t like. If it’s someone I can resonate with, though… The perks are worth the trouble. I could change forms when you ask me, and keep a physical body for as long as I like.”

Merlin pondered on it. It could come in handy, having a new ally in his endless fight against everything that tried to harm his prince. Especially if it could turn into something small, like a rat, and follow him without being noticed. 

“How does it work? Is there a spell, or something?” He asked finally. 

The rat looked at him in silence for a moment and then climbed into his hand.

“You need to give me a name and bind it to me with your magic. And then, I will respond to that name.”

Merlin thought about it. 

“I name you Alexander.” His eyes flashed gold, and just like that, it was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a story in English. I figured the quarantine would be as good as any other time to start it.  
> The familiar lore is pretty much made up. But of course if they existed in canon Merlin would get one.


	2. History has its eyes on you

The next days passed in a flurry of serving Arthur and Gaius as fast as he could, and then rushing to the gardens in any free time he had to be alone with his familiar. He discovered that it couldn’t quite read his mind, but if he thought something and thought of his familiar at the same time, the spirit could understand and even respond in the same way. Merlin thought that it was much better than talking to a rat openly, especially if the rat also talked. 

Soon he learned that the familiar could actually take other forms, like a pitch-black stallion, or even a dark-skinned man with the same intelligent eyes the rat had, and that could still blend in with the shadows. This was undoubtedly the most useful if they wanted to talk, and Merlin found that he enjoyed talking to the familiar. It was a being of magic, like him, and it made him feel less lonely in that castle where he couldn’t be himself without risking his head. Gaius was like a father to him, and he knew Merlin had magic, but he didn’t know what it felt like. There was a special connection in being both magical and trusting each other, knowing they would be prosecuted if someone found out. 

He was so engrossed in this newfound connection that he didn’t talk much to Arthur. While he did his work for Arthur, Alexander helped Gaius or studied the magic book for him, looking for the most useful spells and marking the pages, and then they met in the garden like a pair of lovers. Arthur had found that he didn’t like the peace Merlin’s silence offered him, but when he tried approaching him after his duties were done, the other man always left without a word. And so, Arthur was left with a whole other kind of loneliness, the one of having a friend and losing him to someone else. He followed him to the garden one day and saw Merlin talking to that man he was sure he had never seen before, smiling in that way he smiled at everyone, in a way that seemed to outshine the Sun itself.

He had left shortly after, but the familiar had already seen him and had asked Merlin who that was. He had regretted it when Merlin spent half an hour talking to him about his master with the biggest smile he had seen on his face. The spirit could practically feel the adoration emanating from his warlock, but he didn’t ask about it. 

The situation continued for a few weeks until Arthur was called to kill another magical beast that was terrorizing some villages. This time it was a hippogryph, a creature half eagle and half horse, that had taken its dietary habits from its eagle part, judging by the fact that it was eating humans and not plants. As Merlin put his armor on him, Arthur caught himself looking at his face, which seemed a bit worried.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to miss your new friend,” he said, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t say he was sad, knowing that he would have Merlin’s attention while they were out. He saw his manservant open his mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “Don’t try to deny it, I’ve seen you in the gardens with him. It’s okay.”

Merlin looked at him with a confused face.

“How kind of you, allowing me to have friends, sire. Oh, don’t tell me you missed me,” he teased the prince, smiling.

“Don’t be stupid, I was glad to have you off my back,” he grumbled, although he was pretty sure the smile that was creeping on his face ruined the effect of his words.

They stood in silence as Merlin fastened his belt to his waist. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said softly, without moving away from him. 

They looked at each other’s eyes, blue meeting blue, and for a split second they could see the loneliness reflected in them, each not being sure whose it was. And then the moment was broken, and they were ready to go. 

They rode to the village where the beast had last been spotted, and Merlin started chatting with Arthur as he had always done. The prince was too happy with it to tell him to shut up, or even to notice that Merlin was riding on a completely black horse. It wasn’t a long ride, because they met the beast halfway to the village. It was massive, and as the knights charged to go against it, Merlin fell back, knowing he couldn’t act while they saw him. So he waited, doing his best to spook the horses -although the beast did most of that- so the knights would have to leave and not get hurt. The beast knocked Arthur back, and as the prince stuck his sword forward, Merlin cast the enchantment so it would pierce its skin and kill it. The warlock rushed to his prince, getting him away from the corpse as the knights came back and congratulated Arthur. They camped for the night since some knights had fallen out of their horses and were a bit knocked about.

The campfire had been reduced to glowing embers when they finally went to sleep, and Merlin dropped himself right next to Arthur. 

“Isn’t there enough space so that you don’t have to lie right next to me, Merlin? Or are you scared and need me to protect you from the wolves?” 

“You were the one whining about not getting enough time with me, sire,” the warlock teased him right back. Arthur rolled his eyes and turned his back on his servant.

It was silent for a while, and then Merlin felt a foot nudging him.

“Are you awake?”

“Well, I am now,” Merlin huffed, but then he saw the look on Arthur’s face. He was looking at the knights that had gotten hurt during the fight. “Sire? Are you okay?”

Again the terrible loneliness darkened the prince’s eyes, and he shook his head.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand what? That other people’s lives depend on your actions?” Merlin looked up at the night sky. The vastness of it seemed more bearable than the one he saw in his friend’s eyes. “That you’re afraid of being wrong because an error from you can mean terrible things happen?” The warlock knew something about that. He had had Arthur’s life in his hands so many times it was scary. 

Arthur looked at him in wonder. It was at times like that, when he had lost all hope, that Merlin seemed to pull out that strange wisdom like he could understand him as an equal. It was madness, of course, Merlin couldn’t possibly know how big, how crushing that responsibility could be. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, “all the time, it feels like…”

“Like history has its eyes on you,” Merlin supplied softly.

“How do you know that?” 

“I think everyone who sees you can see that your destiny is to do great things,” he whispered. “It’s like there’s a fire in you, and it blazes and lights up the way for all of us. And that’s why I know that you will be a great king. Because that fire is warm, and compassionate, and kind. And just like you care about your people, they care for you. I don’t think you realize it, but we’d give our lives for you without thinking it twice. That’s just how much you have earned the trust and the love of your people.” 

Arthur didn’t reply. He was busy choking back tears. So he lied awake, long after Merlin had fallen asleep by his side, long after the embers had turned into smoking coal, until finally sleep came over him and freed the tears he’d been keeping in for a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from a Hamilton song, I felt that it fits with Arthur being the future king, especially with a Great Destiny and all.


	3. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur figures out an important truth about Merlin. Sort of.

The ride back would have been way more comfortable if Merlin’s horse hadn’t just disappeared. Nobody quite knew how it had happened, except Merlin, who knew his familiar could change forms but didn’t know why it had left him like that. Now he was sitting behind Arthur, who wasn’t saying anything. They rode in silence, Arthur still thinking about Merlin’s words, Merlin thinking about Arthur. 

The thing was, someone can’t be an idiot and have such wonderful insight sometimes. Arthur was educated as a prince, and so he had always been taught that he meant more than mere servants, and as such he hadn’t had a second thought when Merlin had seemed to be such a dollop-head, for lack of a better term. It was only natural that he wasn’t as smart as any nobleman. Something in him had started seeing him as different from the beginning because he didn’t seem to submit to him the way other servants did. But then it had settled in as a part of his character, just like his jokes or that smile he wielded like a sword, disarming most anyone who met him and knew him. And Arthur had still assumed he was a side character in the story of his life still, except in those moments when he showed that strange wisdom of his. 

And now he realized that someone that wise and someone that dumb couldn’t coexist in the same person without him spontaneously combusting. Or they could, but it would be too strange. And often it happened that when things seemed too strange to be true, they weren’t. Or they were magic. But there was no way Merlin was magic, so maybe he was just acting dumb. Arthur couldn’t understand why anyone would want to seem dumber than they really were, and so he was confused about the reason his servant would be lying to him. He decided that it would probably be a good idea to keep a closer eye on him. If he ever managed to get him away from his new friend, perhaps he could just ask Merlin. It bothered him that he wouldn’t trust him, even though he sort of understood that sometimes it’s impossible to speak your mind when someone more powerful than you is in the room. After all, he didn’t tell his father everything he thought, and that didn’t change the respect, loyalty, and love he felt for him. He was convinced that something similar happened with Merlin, perhaps because he couldn’t really imagine that Merlin had been lying in what he had said for him.

As soon as they got back, Arthur went to report on his victory to his father, while Merlin went to his room, only to find a certain black rat in his bag. 

“Why did you disappear like that?” Merlin hissed.

“Well, I was tired. And you looked like you’d appreciate some time alone with that prince,” his familiar replied.

Merlin turned red.

“I don’t know what you mean. Just- don’t do it again.”

He left quickly. Merlin couldn’t quite deny that the loyalty he felt towards Arthur had passed the point of simple loyalty into the realms of something more significant, but he also couldn’t admit it to anyone. Not even the spirit bound to him. Not even to himself. Not as long as breathing was considered High Treason for him at least. He made his way to the market, remembering that Gaius had given him a list of things they needed, including something to have dinner with, probably.

Arthur finished giving his report and then went after Leon, still thinking about Merlin. He knew he was a trustworthy knight, probably the best one of them after Arthur himself. 

“Oh, Arthur, sire. Is everything alright?” His fellow knight asked.

“I have a somewhat delicate question for you,” Arthur replied, and after receiving a nod from him, continued. “What do you think of Merlin?”

Leon blinked at him. He felt like there was more to the question than it seemed, so he was cautious.

“What do you mean? Has something happened with him?”

“I think he’s hiding something from me.” He frowned as Leon laughed. “I’m not kidding. There’s something he’s not telling me.”

Leon thought about it for a second. “I can’t imagine Merlin wishing any evils on you. If he is hiding something from you, it may just have nothing to do with you,” he suggested. “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s with bad intentions. He’s as loyal to you as any of us. But if it worries you, just ask him.”

Arthur nodded and thanked him before going back to his chambers, waiting there for Merlin. Leon’s words had been what he needed. He was right, Merlin had proved his loyalty to him and to Camelot over and over again, and whatever he was hiding, he would have a good explanation for. He was sure of it.

So he waited until Merlin came in with his dinner.

“Merlin, sit down for a moment, will you?” He waited until his servant obeyed. “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

Merlin blinked at him.

“Yes? A lot of things? I doubt you need to know just everything that goes on with my life,” he said, looking at him like he was dumb. 

Arthur threw an apple at him because obviously he was the prince and he wasn’t dumb.

“I know it,” Arthur said with a smug face, noticing the brief panic in Merlin’s eyes before he frowned.

“You know… what, exactly?”

“That you’re acting like you’re dumber than you are on purpose. Nobody can be that stupid and keep breathing for so long.”

Merlin blinked at him again. 

“Well, yeah. The last time I told you something was up you went to Uther with no proof and ended up shouting at me, even though I was absolutely right that there was a guy using a magical shield with snakes. So I guessed I’d have to take care of any other assassination attempts on my own,” he replied.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it. Merlin… had a point.

“Wait, what do you mean by that? There have been… other problems?” But as soon as the words left his mouth he understood that of course there had been. He remembered all the times Merlin had been accused of sorcery, all the times he had insisted in coming with him to his missions despite the fact that he wouldn’t be of much help. “Exactly how many times have you acted from the shadows?”

“I fear I’ve lost count, sire. And it’s because they were a lot of times, not because I can’t count very high,” Merlin replied, scratching his head. “Well, there was that time when you got poisoned and I went to that witch, Nimueh, and offered her my life for yours, but she broke the deal and decided to take another so Gaius and I went and murdered her, which apparently worked and that’s why she hasn’t given any more trouble. And that time when you took another servant and he actually stole your keys and then freed a sorcerer - that was when the gargoyles came to life, remember? We figured if we could touch the stone that had kept his soul trapped before to him, he’d be sucked in, I still don’t know how that one worked out, to be honest. And that time when the two guys were impersonating knights using sorcery, when you actually acted nice and saved Gwaine from being hanged just because he saved me from getting stabbed with magical swords they wanted to use to murder you in the tourney,” he began recounting, and then stopped at the look of sheer horror in Arthur’s face. There wasn’t much more, really, the last event had happened fairly recently, and the last one he could remember was the one with the Manticore when Uther had almost died for the nth time.

“You have killed Nimueh? The witch that caused a whole plague in Camelot?” Arthur was staring at him like he either wanted to scream and run away or kiss him right then and there.

“Um, yeah, she was like ‘You’re no match for my powers! Muahaha!’ and I was like ‘Don’t need magic to stab a bitch’.”

Arthur blinked, looking increasingly amused.

“And you’ve been acting like you’re just an idiot all this time?” His expression darkened. “You’ve been allowing me to treat you like one, and yet you kept saving me, and saving this kingdom. Why would you do that?”

“Ah, well, someone had to do it, sire,” Merlin replied with a smile.

“I promise you… you can trust me, from now on. And I’ll trust you to - I already do, really.”

“Wow, you can not be a prat if you want to, I hadn’t noticed.” Merlin’s smile was even wider. It was a bit like staring into the sun. “Just don’t go to your father as soon as I tell you something’s wrong. You know my word means nothing, and you do get awful if you embarrass yourself for nothing.” 

Arthur nodded, smiling too. He was still a bit dazed, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his manservant was pretty much a hero. He made a note to thank Leon for his advice. Without it, he would have wasted his time being angry or worried, instead of actually giving Merlin the option to explain himself. Or not. He did like to think that he was smarter than that, but he wasn’t sure, so he’d thank Leon anyway.

“Sire? Would you mind not telling anyone about this?” Merlin asked softly.

“Why? You deserve to be rewarded for what you have done.” Arthur was quite surprised, to say the least.

“People would be wary around me. You get to know many things when people think you’re dumb, sire. I just want to protect you, that’s my only reward: having you back home, safe, at the end of the day.” 

After that declaration, he looked away, blushing deeply. Arthur nodded, conceding his point, but before he could say anything, Merlin had already left the room, mumbling an excuse about having to deliver some things to Gaius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit longer than expected, but I hope you enjoyed it. The story is set around season 3, and Morgana is still around but laying low... for a few chapters more, maybe. We'll hear of her.


	4. The one where Arthur realizes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The realization hit him like a train traveling at 120 km/h to his face, except that it didn’t kill him, and was, therefore, more painful."

The days passed slowly, like a bug swimming through honey, with Arthur’s door getting stuck suspiciously often when Merlin and Arthur were inside, and Merlin getting increasingly more frustrated with his familiar. Every time he asked it, it would smile and leave the room. Merlin had heard that they couldn’t lie to their masters, so its refusal to speak was pretty much a confession, and asking it to stop wasn’t working. Alexander insisted that it was serving him to the best of his abilities, which included “getting him together with his dear prince”. 

Arthur didn’t have that explanation, so he sat alone in his chambers, mulling over his last time stuck with Merlin. They had spent the time talking. Well, most of it had been Merlin telling him about his life before coming to Camelot, about his mother. He told him, with a wistful look on his face, that he missed her, that he missed his life in the village because it had been so much easier. 

Arthur had asked him if he would like to go back, and Merlin had looked at him with wonder in his eyes before he had told him that no, he wouldn’t. “Life here is so much more complicated, and… so much more wonderful. I miss my mom sometimes, but I don’t regret coming here.” His smile had been so wide it had been almost painful, mixed with the melancholy in his eyes. 

Thinking about it, Arthur realized that, since Merlin was around, things were just lucky. Arthur was about to get murdered and a rock fell on the enemy’s head. Arthur was about to die getting a plant to save him, and a mysterious light guided him to safety. Arthur wanted Merlin to pay more attention to him, and the door got stuck. And then the terrible thought, that they were too many coincidences. There was something… unnatural about the way things went just the right way. 

It was like magic was at work.

The realization hit him like a train traveling at 120 km/h to his face, except that it didn’t kill him, and was, therefore, more painful. He got up from his chair and paced the room, reviewing every single incident in his head, and knowing they had only one thing in common. The thought of going to Uther passed through his head briefly, but then he thought about Leon’s words once more.

“He’s as loyal to me as any of my knights… well, I should probably talk to him before doing anything. He’s my servant after all,” he said to himself before setting off to find Merlin. 

He found him in the gardens, as he had expected, and grabbed him by his arm before pretty much dragging him to his chambers. His servant didn’t say anything, although he rubbed his arm as soon as it was released, frowning at him. Arthur didn’t speak until he had closed the door and they were sitting by the fire.

The prince took a deep breath, and then looked at the fire, not daring to look at him.

“Sire?” Merlin was getting more confused by the moment.

“I hadn’t expected magic to be at the heart of Camelot, you know. But now that I think about it, it’s obvious. Every time I have been in mortal danger, I have somehow managed to get out of it, even though I shouldn’t have.” Arthur glanced at Merlin, who looked quite sick. He closed his eyes.

“You seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to sorcery,” he continued, his eyes still closed. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. Or… did you know?” 

That took Merlin completely by surprise. He was scared to death, he hadn’t meant for Arthur to find out, how the hell had he found out? But now he was just talking nonsense.

“I have magic, Merlin,” Arthur confessed, looking at him. Merlin could see the fear in his eyes, and so did his best not to laugh in his face.

If he told Arthur he didn’t have magic, he’d suspect Merlin next. So it took Merlin all the best of 3 seconds to decide to play along.

“I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Arthur was getting ready to threaten him, but paused and frowned.

“Why? Magic is forbidden in Camelot!”

“Because that’s what your father decided in his fear of magic, out of resentment for what he had done. And magic in the wrong hands can be dangerous, but your loyalty to your people is unquestionable, Arthur.”

“And where do your loyalties reside?” Arthur questioned, looking at him.

Merlin looked straight into his eyes before answering:

“With you, and the people of Camelot. You will be a great king, and I am now sure that your people won’t have to live in fear. Because the users of magic are also your people, and they will always be, and you will show the world how magic can be used for good, too.” Merlin knew it was a dangerous game, but if he could just show Arthur how it felt, if he could only make him understand that magic could be used in service of the people, he had to try. 

Arthur was looking at him like he was going to cry, so Merlin hugged him. It was awkward, mostly because the prince was still pouting while not moving at all, while Merlin was pretty much wrapped around him. But he relaxed and rested his head on his shoulder softly like he didn’t want Merlin to notice, and so Merlin pretended he didn’t. He knew how lonely it felt, and how it twisted you inside if you weren’t careful, and he remembered meeting his familiar and how that connection had made him feel so much better. And then he remembered Morgana, and how the only connection she had found was an evil witch who wanted to ruin Camelot and see Uther dead. 

He could change that. He remembered Morgana as she was before when they had been friends. 

“Morgana is a sorceress too,” Merlin said, pulling away from his prince.

“She what?” Arthur stared at him like he was crazy.

“Yes, and I know she’s been very lonely and… a bit out of her head. I think the realization that Uther would kill her on the spot if he knew and that he keeps killing people just for being born with magic angered her a bit.” That was an understatement, but it would have to do.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur was getting angry, and perhaps a part of it was about the fact that Uther had killed children just for having magic.

“First of all, you would have either told your father or just not believed me at all. I didn’t want you to suffer,” he admitted, “but now it’s different. You need to talk to her, tell her that you know and that you share her gift. You can’t let her hate grow, and neither yours.”

“But she’s right. Uther has…”

“Your father has done what he believed best for his kingdom, and despite making terrible mistakes, he has protected it from any threat, real or imagined, that he has seen. Magic will serve you, but if you let hate consume you, you will be the greatest threat to the people you have sworn to protect,” Merlin told him.

Arthur nodded slowly.

“When you’re king, everything will be different, I’m sure of it. But for now, you need to think about the future.”

“And you need to stop telling me what to do.”

“Okay, sure, as soon as you develop a brain of your own,” Merlin replied, and then dodged Arthur’s arm as he tried to grab him. He laughed and got up. “Come on, let’s go talk to her.”

“Are you forgetting that I’m the one who gives out orders, Merlin?” Arthur asked, annoyed.

“Alright, alright, so what do you want to do?”

The prince sighed and then got up. 

“Let’s go talk to Morgana.”


	5. Morgana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana re-thinks her loyalties.

Morgana gave them an odd look when they entered her chambers. She hadn’t been plotting anything for once, mostly because Merlin seemed to somehow fool all her plans (how a lowly servant like him could do it was beyond her knowledge, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he knew she wanted to get rid of Uther and kept an eye on her). And now he was here with Arthur.

He turned to look at his servant. 

“Are you absolutely sure that she’s…?” Merlin nodded, and Morgana narrowed her eyes. Surely the little weasel couldn’t have told Arthur about her magic. Even if he did, Arthur wouldn’t believe his word over hers. 

“What is this about? Is something wrong?” She asked, trying to look innocent.

“I know you have magic,” Arthur told her bluntly. “It’s okay, I have magic too, I won’t tell anyone,” he added quickly.

Morgana stared at him.

“You what?”

“I have magic too,” he repeated. “Look.” He looked intensely at a goblet on Morgana’s table.

“Yeah, ri-,” Morgana stopped mid-phrase, as the goblet flew straight into a wall, making a loud sound. 

Both of them failed to notice how Merlin had raised his hand and his eyes had flashed gold, probably thanks to his habit of being right behind Arthur most of the time. He smiled proudly and then lowered his hand quickly as Morgana turned to look at him.

“The servant knows too much. I think we should get rid of him,” she said with a calm voice.

Merlin took a step back, opening his mouth to protest, but he didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Arthur stepped in front of him.

“He has proven his loyalty. I don’t think he will tell anyone, and if he did, nobody would believe a servant over both of us, right?”

Morgana looked at them in turn. She should tell Arthur that he had poisoned her, but Arthur had apparently believed him when he had told him she had magic. He could have told him that she had tried to kill Uther and helped put a spell on the kingdom, but he hadn’t. She wondered what kind of game he was playing, and how she could win it. And then she smiled. Arthur had magic. Merlin had placed the perfect accomplice in her hands.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m so glad I don’t have to hide from you anymore.” Morgana hugged him. That much was true. She pulled away, looking sad. “But I wish I didn’t have to hide from anyone.”

“When I am king, you won’t have to,” Arthur assured her. 

“But that could take years, and if Uther finds us, we’re dead. Worse, there are people out there getting killed just because they have this gift!” She could see how his face took up a grim expression. “We need to stop it.”

And then he looked back at Merlin, who had put his hand on his shoulder, and his whole face softened. 

“Morgana, I’m young and inexperienced,” he admitted, “and if I were to take the throne now from my father, the people wouldn’t respect me as their king. The other kingdoms would see we are weak, with traitors inside our own royal family, and they would attack us. And if I lose my own knights’ respect and loyalty, our people will just be massacred. More people will die if we try to take the throne than they will because of my father’s blind hate.”

Merlin and Morgana both stared at him. It had been surprisingly insightful of him, and Merlin could feel his chest swollen with pride. Morgana didn’t quite know how to feel about it. She could see his point, and she could also see that a king with magic wouldn’t keep the ban on it. It was a matter of time. 

“You’re right,” she conceded finally, bowing her head. 

“I think it’s best if you don’t do magic inside the castle. The walls have ears,” Merlin suggested. It was mostly so he didn’t have to run after Arthur in case he felt the need to use it and suddenly found he didn’t have magic.

“Well, of course, do you think we’re stupid?” Arthur asked. The silence his question was met with was eloquent enough, and he glared at his servant.

“Arthur, do you mind if Merlin stays with me for a moment? There’s something we need to talk about,” Morgana said suddenly, breaking the silence. He nodded and left the room with a huff, leaving Merlin behind. “I can’t understand you. Why did you tell him? Do you think I’ve forgotten that you poisoned me?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you have done either,” he replied, “but you went through all this alone. I can’t bear to see the same happen to Arthur. I’m sorry, Morgana, I really am, but I think this is good for you too. We were friends once, and I haven’t forgotten that either, but my loyalties lie with Arthur. There is no reason for us to be on different sides. Arthur will be a magnificent king, and magic will return to Camelot, is that not what you wanted? To stop hiding? Stand with us. Help Arthur become the king he is destined to be.”

Morgana looked at Merlin, his angular, resolute face looking fierce in the dimly lit room. She knew his loyalty to Arthur knew no bounds, and being on their side meant it would likely extend to her too, as it had extended to Gaius or Gwen. As it had extended to her before she had betrayed them. 

“You know as well as I do that Uther is capable of living another ten, maybe twenty years. It’s too long,” she whispered as softly as she could.

“And you know that his murder on the hands of magic will make everyone think his measures against it were right, and keep hunting the magic users on their own, even if the new king allows them to live freely,” Merlin replied. “Perhaps, when Arthur is ready to rule, he will abdicate on him,” he added hopefully.

Morgana shook her head. 

“I don’t think that will happen. But let’s continue this conversation when Arthur is indeed fit to rule, and perhaps we can reach some kind of agreement as to what to do with Uther,” she suggested. She was tired of fighting Merlin. “For now, let us put our past behind us, Merlin, and look only to the future.”

His grin was as wide as the ones he had given her when Morgana didn’t know about her magic and she found herself smiling too, and forgiving him in the deepest part of her heart, even though she didn’t know it yet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, bowing deeply before her, and then rushed out to go after his master. Without a sound, a pitch-black raven perched itself on her window. Merlin didn’t think she would go murder anyone in their sleep, but it was better to be sure than to realize he was wrong with a knife on his throat.


	6. A hunt gone wrong (but not too wrong)

Things had slipped back to the kind of normality you would expect from the life of people with as big a destiny as Arthur or Merlin, which was actually a fair amount. Morgana had eventually stopped glaring at Merlin when she saw him, coincidentally around the time he had started smuggling them Gaius’ books about magic. Not the ones with spells (he still didn’t trust Morgana that much), but the ones about creatures and types of magic. He had just taken one out one day and told them seriously that if they were going to lift the ban on magic when Arthur got to the throne, they might as well have some idea of the types of magic there were and what laws should be made to restrict it. After all, he had reasoned, the fact that magic was legal should not mean one should be able to skip courting and make someone fall in love with them through sorcery. And they should be able to recognize magic anyway and eventually train the knights to act in its presence, since the fact that magic didn’t make someone evil didn’t mean they couldn’t be.

Both Morgana and Arthur had found it slightly unsettling that Merlin was so enthusiastic about the prospect of a magical Camelot after his previous efforts to protect the kingdom from it, but they hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about it. Every time Arthur went to see Morgana, either Merlin followed him or was already there when he arrived, as if he could predict his movements. It wasn’t bad. Merlin would just watch the door while they did magic, or he would join their studies of magic or listen to their plans for the future with a wide grin, sometimes chipping in with a joke that only he found hilarious or a surprisingly intelligent remark about whatever they were discussing.

That was another thing. It wasn’t that he was smart, it was the fact that he talked about freedom and bravery and courage and destiny in a way Arthur had never seen before. He found himself looking at Merlin with something that couldn’t be admiration (except that it was) and wondering where it had been all along.

He felt incredibly stupid. Merlin had lied to him effortlessly, but it didn’t even qualify as a lie. He had just hidden a part of him so well that it had taken him what seemed like forever to put the pieces together. The real lies had been small and spoon-fed, and he had swallowed them all. Because he didn’t trust Arthur. Because Arthur had given him reasons to think he was an idiot who couldn’t be trusted. Once he had thought about it, it had felt like a kick to the gut. He wasn’t sure Merlin trusted him even now. 

And so, going out for a hunt had seemed like a good way to let out some stress. Nobody had been quite ready for a giant boar to come charging at them, and they had been less ready for it to keep charging with several arrows coming out of its skin. Merlin had seen it going for Arthur, and he had somehow hit it with a stick hard enough that it had gotten angrier and chased him instead, leaving the knights (and Morgana) some time to calm down their horses, the ones who hadn’t fallen down yet. They had managed to do so and then had followed the animal’s track and finally managed to find it and finish it off - a sword to the neck had finally done the trick. They hadn’t found Merlin. Some of the knights had stayed with him, others taking the bounty to the citadel. And then, the knights had slowly gone back, at some point, even Morgana had gone back, and Arthur had just refused to. He had been catching his breath when he had seen a blackbird, looking at him from a nearby branch. Well, it looked like a blackbird that had taken its name too seriously and lacked the characteristical bright orange on its beak and feet. Not that Arthur would have known, he wasn’t an ornithologist - the word didn’t even exist. But he noticed the bird was strange, even though the day was ending and he couldn’t see it very well in the dimming light. For some reason, he approached it, and as he did, the animal flew to another branch, just a bit further.

Arthur followed. He didn’t know why. He assumed it was his magic sixth sense, or maybe the way the bird would land on a branch and  _ stare back _ like it was making sure he was following. So he followed, straining his eyes to see the blackbird in the shadows that were quickly growing larger until he spotted a tree with an opening in its trunk, big enough to fit a person. Big enough to fit a figure with pale hands and face, shivering. Big enough to fit Arthur when he crouched next to the lying figure, not nearly big enough to fit his relief when he saw it was his manservant, who didn’t look all that well.

“Merlin? Are you okay?” It was a dumb question. His face was crumpled like he was in pain, but he raised blue eyes to meet his gaze and he tried to smile.

“Bit late to go around in the forest, isn’t it?” He muttered between gritted teeth, and Arthur noticed how he was holding his ribs. 

“Well, I was looking for you, what’s your excuse?” Arthur moved his hand. It did look like he had a broken rib and an ugly gash across his side. He had been holding a piece of cloth against it. 

“I think the boar tossing me around had me a bit disorientated. I felt like crawling into a hole and dying, so I did the first thing. Feeling less sure about the second now that you’re here,” Merlin replied the smile that had formed in his lips faltering as Arthur cleaned the wound with some water and then covered it with a clean part of the same cloth, offering Merlin the waterskin. 

Arthur watched Merlin’s throat working to down the water, and realized suddenly that he could see far more of it than usual, and that the cloth on his side looked a lot like his neckerchief. 

“What you did was quite the stupid move. Brave, yes, but stupid. You could’ve died,” Arthur admonished him.

“It was going for you, couldn’t let you get hurt,” Merlin replied. He really hadn’t thought about it. He had seen Arthur in danger and his body had just reacted.

Merlin was still shivering, so Arthur draped his cape over him, and then laid down by his side, hoping to give him some warmth. Merlin scooted closer to him so that both of them could fit under the cape. The prince felt quite relieved when he noticed Merlin’s lips had gone from pale to their usual color, and that his cheeks were taking on a rosy color, probably from the heat. He thought about starting a fire and tried to get up, but his servant took his arm like he didn’t want him to go, and who was Arthur to deny him? (Well, he was the prince, but that’s not the point). Plus, he didn’t want to accidentally set the tree on fire. 

The prince noticed Merlin was still awake, and in fact watching him. He was smiling, which was a bit odd for someone who had been mauled by a boar, but he had gotten off pretty well from it. Arthur wondered if his magic could have protected him from afar. Maybe its protection extended to those he cared about. As if he could read his line of thought, Merlin broke the silence.

“Why did you tell me about your magic?”

Arthur pondered it for a moment.

“I didn’t know whether to give myself up for justice or… keep acting as the prince and protecting the people of Camelot to the best of my abilities, natural or not. And, since you have this sort of deep wisdom that pops up at times, I figured you might be able to help me out,” he replied. “And I trust you. If it was the other way around, would you have told me?”

“I think I wouldn’t have. You would’ve cut my head off.” Merlin rubbed his neck as if imagining it.

The prince looked at him and turned slightly so he could have a better look at his face.

“I’m not sure I would have done that,” he whispered almost to himself. The idea of losing Merlin was fresh on his mind like an open wound, and he couldn’t think of reopening it of his own will.

The servant smiled up at him, with affection shimmering in his eyes. 

“Do you know what the biggest difference between you and me is? That your first loyalty is to Camelot and its people, and mine is to you. Your destiny is to be a great king, and mine is to serve you to my last breath.” He said it matter-of-factly as if he had already seen it unfold and was perfectly content with how it had turned out in the end. Arthur found it comforting, and yet terribly upsetting. The wisdom in his voice matched someone older who had lived to see history repeat itself, and not someone as young and full of life as Merlin. 

“Do you really believe in destiny?” Arthur liked to believe that he was free to choose his own path, even if he just followed the one laid out for him because it was the best for his people.

“How could I not, when I have it right in front of me?” Merlin replied, looking straight into his eyes, and for what might have been the first time in his life, Arthur was left speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and I'm still going on with this even if it took me like a week to publish this chapter. I'll probably keep up this rhythm since I'm slightly busier.


	7. The Coming of Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coming of Arthur but slightly changed since Morgana is no longer a traitor.

About a week later, a messenger from a nearby king came. Cenred was his name, and he claimed that a patrol from Camelot had trespassed the frontier, so they had killed all of them. Merlin was quite horrified, and Arthur even more so. Sir Leon was on that patrol, and he was a friend of the prince. 

Merlin and Morgana had both gone with him afterward. Arthur was used to losing people, it was something that happened when most of the people you know make a living fighting for their kingdom. That didn’t make it less painful. Anyone could see that Arthur cared about his people. Where other people treated them like peons in the greater scheme, Arthur had seen at some point that they had names and faces and families and that each and every life was worth protecting. Perhaps he had needed some help from Merlin and Gwen in realizing it, but it had happened at some point. Well, he still cared more about the ones closest to him. If it had been Merlin or Morgana… he didn’t want to think about that. So he kept them closer that evening, they studied an old book on troll magic and then Merlin had whipped out a cheesy romantic novel under Morgana’s delighted eyes, and they had proceeded to do a terrible dramatization of it. It had been about a princess who fell in love with one of her knights, and Merlin had insisted on being the princess. So Morgana had read out a very long speech declaring her love for the princess, at the end of which the “princess” had thrown herself into Morgana’s arms, blinking adorably at her. The three of them had ended up on the floor laughing, with Arthur ruffling Merlin’s hair.

The day after had been a better day. Well, somewhat better. Sir Leon had come back, which had been nice. But he had been revived by an incredibly powerful object, the Cup of Life, which wasn’t as good news. Uther wanted his son to get it back from the druids. Merlin had asked him nicely if it wouldn’t be a better idea to just leave it to them since they had protected it long enough, and Arthur had shrugged and told him that he couldn’t exactly go against his father like that, and Uther was inflexible about magic, even when he really should listen.

So they had set course for the place of the massacre. Just Merlin and Arthur. Well, and Alexander, who was inside his bag, but Arthur didn’t know about that. They rode while Merlin chattered, talking about whatever familiar plants he saw and the properties they had. Arthur had tried telling him to shut up at the beginning, but his servant had done what he did best: he had completely ignored him and kept talking, turning his head now and then to look at him. The warlock liked looking at Arthur, after all, he did look quite great with the sun shining on his hair. It looked like a halo, which shone in contrast to how dim-witted Arthur was. Such was the way of Nature, all full of paradoxes and contradictions.

Alexander wondered briefly why he had stopped feeling the trotting of the horse and then felt himself falling, along with the bag he was in. He reached out for Merlin and found that he wasn’t there. 

“Well, this is inconvenient,” he thought before turning into a small-eyed black snake. 

He felt how the bag was pulled up, and could only hope they were taking him wherever his master was going. He waited and waited until finally, the bag opened and a hand made its appearance. Alexander bit it, injecting the amount of venom his glands had fabricated during the wait and then turned into a small wasp and flew out. The man who had been bitten was emptying the bag, but he would find no trace of the offending snake. Alexander buzzed into the corridor, following the connection that tied him to Merlin.

Merlin had awoken a couple of hours earlier in a pit with a lot of people, including Gwaine, and had spent a bit catching up with his friend until they had been interrupted by the same man who would be bitten by his familiar later. They had managed to escape thanks to Merlin’s magic and were now back in the forest- Alexander caught up to them after turning into a raven - a man running was faster than a wasp, but a raven flying was about 3-4 times faster. The warlock had sensed him and briefly gone into the woods, coming out seemingly the same but being actually a small rat heavier.

“You know, despite the circumstances being the worst possible, I’m glad to see you again,” Gwaine told Merlin suddenly. 

Arthur tried to look like he wasn’t listening while he definitely didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation. They would have to be having a private conversation for that, and not speaking at a low tone that someone a few feet ahead could hear if he really tried. 

“It’s becoming a bit of a tradition, meeting like this.” Merlin smiled at him. “I’m glad to see you too. And Arthur too, but he’s a clotpole and won’t admit it,” he added.

“Maybe it’s destiny pulling us together,” Gwaine suggested.

Arthur, for entirely unrelated reasons, nearly tripped over himself. He didn’t dislike Gwaine, but… well, he didn’t really trust him. He had seen him fight, and Gwaine didn’t fight like someone trained in chivalry and manners. He fought like someone who did it to survive. Yes, Arthur fought to survive in his battles, he had been out in the field too, and he had done it for Camelot and for his people. Gwaine didn’t seem to have another purpose except keeping himself alive. Arthur wasn’t sure of his loyalty. He wasn’t sure he could actually beat Gwaine in a fight. He was all smiles and charm with Merlin, but Arthur had an uneasy feeling about him. This might have had something to do with the fact that Merlin was also all smiles and charm with Gwaine, but Merlin was always like that. And he was allowed to have friends. Arthur would just rather Merlin wasn’t friends with someone with better hair than him, or who could possibly beat him in a fight. 

“Will you stay with us this time?” Merlin asked softly. 

Merlin liked Gwaine. Merlin liked most people who were nice to him, really, and Gwaine had really nice hair and was kind to him. And he had said he didn’t settle for long, but Merlin had missed him. He didn’t have many friends. Morgana and Arthur were a bit tangled in his destiny, he hadn’t had a say in whether he wanted them in his life. Gaius was more like his father than an actual friend. Gwen was nice, but Merlin couldn’t have fun with her as he did with Gwaine, there was just a sort of complicity between them that he didn’t feel with her. 

“I don’t know. I never settle for long.” Gwaine replied. “And I’m banished and all that,” he added.

Gwaine liked Arthur mostly because Merlin liked Arthur. And he disliked Arthur a bit because of how he treated Merlin. It went without saying that he loved Merlin. It wasn’t romantic love, but he felt comfortable around him, and that was quite rare for someone who had spent his life looking over his shoulder and getting into fights. If Merlin had asked him ‘Will you stay with me?’, Gwaine would have been powerless to say no. But Merlin wouldn’t ask for something like that for himself, all selfless and loyal to the bone to his prince. Trouble also seemed to follow the young servant, and Gwaine loved getting into trouble. So he liked Merlin, and he would probably bash to death anyone who inconvenienced him, because that’s what you do with friends, right? He thought so, at least, even though he hadn’t had many friends before. He would probably follow him to the end of the world and back without even asking why they were going there in the first place. It was safe to say that Gwaine’s loyalty was mostly to himself, but it was also fiercely with his friends, whenever he happened to make one. And he had made one. 

“Arthur is going to need more knights. When he unites Albion.” Merlin suggested quietly. 

Gwaine looked at him and put an arm over his shoulders, smiling.

“If I ever think of becoming a knight, he’s the only king worth serving I know of.”

Arthur did swell a bit with pride hearing that.

“And we could also spend some time together. You know, without mortal danger. Or with mortal danger if you want.” Gwaine suggested. He was fairly sure Merlin enjoyed his company, but confirmation never hurt. 

“Of course, as long as that time doesn’t include tavern brawls,” the warlock replied. 

“Are you trying to steal my manservant? Because he may be quite useless, but he’s still mine,” Arthur interrupted.

“He’s also not your property and can decide for himself,” Gwaine reminded him gently. “But he’d never leave you, I don’t stand a chance,” he added quickly. 

Arthur was quite thankful that they had found the druid cave because it meant he didn’t have to come up with an answer to that. He could just forget he had said Merlin was his. Right, and they had a mission. That was important. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just keep focusing a lot on loyalties and stuff and not getting any actual romancing in it. I guess I'll have to add a slow-burn tag.


	8. The Coming of Arthur II

It went as well as Merlin expected, who expected it to go as well as scratching a lion's balls with a short stick would. Arthur got the Cup from the druids, but before he could leave, Merlin had raised his voice and asked, loud and clear, how it worked.

Gwaine had frowned at him, Arthur had outright glared. The leader of the druids had asked him why he wanted to know, to which Merlin had replied that he just wanted to know what was the worst that could happen, should it end in enemy hands. 

Apparently, the worst would probably be that the enemy would end up with an army of undead people that couldn’t be killed until the cup was emptied of their blood, which was admittedly very bad, but they had promised to protect the Cup at all costs and left.

Cenred’s soldiers had somehow found them, and they had barely managed to escape, but the Cup had gone with them. And Arthur had an arrow sticking out of his leg, which was also not ideal. They had gone back to Camelot to warn their people, while Merlin both took care of Arthur’s wounded leg the best he could and thought about what on the whole world could kill an army of immortal soldiers, besides spilling the cup. He did want to spill the thing, he just wanted something that could get him past rows of immortal people and to it.

They only stopped to rest, because Arthur’s leg wasn’t looking good. Gwaine went for wood, while Merlin tried the best he could to heal him. It didn’t do much, but he had tried.

Gwaine came back accompanied by a young boy Merlin recognized mostly when he spoke in his mind.  _ We meet again, Emrys. _

“I found this guy spying on us,” Gwaine explained. 

Merlin buried his face in his hands. He didn’t need more complications.

“It’s okay, I know him, you can put that sword away,” he spoke finally. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with the druids.”

Mordred had grown up since the last time Merlin had seen him. He was not far from the age Merlin had when he had left Ealdor, but his face was grave with worry. 

“I heard what happened, and I came to help him. I owe him my life, after all.” 

“Right, uh, Gwaine, this is Mordred.” Merlin introduced them mostly to get them to talk to each other and maybe think of a plan.

“Don’t worry, I’m quite banished from Camelot, won’t go around spilling the beans about you being with the druids and all,” Gwaine offered his hand, and Mordred accepted it. “Also, I don’t care. The druids are nice. Uh, do you know how to help the princess here? He got shot in the leg and it’s not looking pretty.”

Merlin watched carefully as Mordred tried a couple of spells on Arthur’s leg, one with a better result than the other. Arthur wasn’t looking as pale. Merlin left them alone for a moment, just enough time to get Alexander out of his jacket and give him instructions. He sighed as the black raven went to deliver his message and then went back with his improvised company.

“Right, well. I don’t think people in Camelot will recognize you if you come with us,” he told Mordred, “except perhaps Morgana, and you already know each other so it should be fine. That is if you do want to help us.”

Mordred nodded. 

“Well, I don’t know if they will recognize me, but I’m not leaving you,” Gwaine chipped in, putting his arms around their shoulders. “Come on, we should sleep. Tomorrow is going to be hard, and we need to be ready.”

So Merlin settled next to Arthur, so he could watch over him in his sleep, and Mordred next to them because it was cold. Gwaine promised to wake Merlin in a couple of hours to shift, (with absolutely no intention of doing it) and sat against a tree to watch over them.

They woke before dawn had broken and left immediately for Camelot. 

“Wait, where’s the Cup? Why is this boy with us?” Arthur asked even as he was pulled to his feet and half carried by Merlin and Gwaine.

“Cenred’s men have it. This boy helped get your leg better. He’s Mordred, remember him? The druid boy?” Arthur nodded. “Good, now shut up and walk. We need to warn Camelot and prepare the defenses,” Merlin finished.

And so they went. They arrived too late to warn anyone, but they added Elyan to their company and got Gaius to get a look at Arthur’s leg. 

“Mordred?” Morgana entered the room, smiling with relief upon seeing them. She had been acting the part of the angry daughter with Morgause, but she wanted nothing more than to get rid of them. She rushed to embrace the druid. “What are you doing here? Oh, Arthur, what happened to you?”

“Cenred’s army, same that’s happening to everyone,” replied the prince. Gaius wrapped his leg with some bandages and sighed.

“They can’t find you, you need to get out of here. Now. I’ll try to stop her as long as I can, she thinks I’m her puppet,” Morgana whispered. “I should be here to get you, Gaius, but I’m letting you leave. Go, come on.”

“If you spill the blood in the Cup, they will stop being immortal,” Merlin suggested. “But don’t do it alone. As soon as Arthur is okay, we’ll come here. And there should be help on its way.”

“Help from whom?” Arthur was on his feet again. “And I’m not going anywhere,” he added. “Not while my people are invaded.”

“Where’s Gwen?” Asked Elyan, who had been quiet until then. 

“I’ll send her with you, she’ll meet you outside. I trust Merlin knows all the secret ways out of the castle.” Morgana looked at him.

“Yeah. And Arthur, you’re coming with me. You are of no use to anyone dead. Let’s get out of here, please,” Merlin begged him. 

Arthur deflated slightly and nodded. He was brave, not stupid. Well, sometimes a bit stupid, but not enough to not know the value of living to fight another day. He had learned that lesson the hard way. He wasn’t likely to forget it.

They left the castle, and then the citadel, and met Gwen outside. Morgana was the only one left behind. Morgana made sure nobody followed them, and so they went to the forest and then to the Valley of the Kings, where an old castle awaited them. Halfway through, they found two other people who seemed to be going to Camelot.

“Lancelot? And…” Merlin looked up at the mountain of a man who walked beside his friend.

“Percival,” the mountain replied. 

“Well, all help is welcome,” Arthur commented. 

The introductions took place along the way, and Merlin fell behind with Lancelot and his friend, along with Gwaine who never seemed to leave his side. Arthur felt like Merlin was the thing holding them all together, and not himself, and so walked in silence, somber thoughts swirling around his head until Gwen placed a hand on his arm.

“I’m glad to see you again,” she whispered.

Arthur smiled. Gwen was the personification of a ray of sunshine if that title wasn’t exclusive of Merlin when he smiled. He could trust her, so he spoke quietly of his general worry about the safety of his people and Sir Leon, and she did what she could to reassure him before she fell behind too, drawn to Lancelot like a moth to a flame. 

They camped for the night and gathered around the fire to speak and keep the cold outside their bodies. Along with Lancelot had returned Alexander, who had immediately turned into a rat while nobody was looking and burrowed itself inside Merlin’s clothes, trembling with exhaustion. They asked Percival about his life, and Merlin improvised a meal with whatever they had left from their trips, and Gaius tended to Arthur. 

Finally, the night came, and the company settled for the night, except for Merlin, who had been thinking and had come up with the brilliant idea that, since the druids had told him the immortal men were technically just undead, he could probably use the only effective weapon he knew against the undead, which was at the bottom of a lake. A lake that was quite far, unless you were riding something that could fly. Merlin knew about something that could fly.

It went without saying, Kilgharrah was unimpressed.

“The winds have been changing, young warlock. It is good to see you again.” The dragon regarded him with its golden eyes that seemed to be lit by an inner light, not unlike a sorcerer’s when they used magic. 

“I need to get to the Avalon lake and get the sword back. There’s a whole army of undead out there, and we need to get rid of at least a couple of them if we are to free Camelot.”

“I warned you of the dangers of the sword,” the dragon started.

“Yes, but we’re marching as soon as Arthur gets his leg back to normal and he’s doing pretty well. I can’t let him go on a suicide mission, it’s my destiny to protect him!” Merlin pleaded.

The dragon puffed some smoke from its nostrils.

“Very well. I understand you have come to the possession of a familiar spirit. May I see it?”

Merlin took Alexander from his coat and showed the dragon the black rat. The dragon blew on it like it had done before to give Merlin knowledge, and the black rat turned into a gryphon.

“This should be enough for you to go and come back. Make sure the sword does not fall into the wrong hands. Be careful, young warlock. As I said, the winds are changing, the magic itself in this world is shifting. Your actions are bringing about a change in the world that goes beyond your understanding.” 

Merlin was about to ask him what that meant, but the dragon flew away.

“Well, thanks for yet another riddle,” he mumbled to himself sarcastically before mounting his recently changed familiar and flying to the lake. He retrieved the magic sword without a bigger incident than his dead former love walking out of the water and giving it to him and made his way back before dawn.


	9. The Coming of Arthur III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin has a chat with the knights and his prince before the battle.

The transforming into other animals and the flying left Alexander thoroughly exhausted, enough that he transformed back into a rat and hid in Merlin’s bag for the rest of the day as they marched through the valley, heading for an ancient castle. They arrived there in the evening, and Alexander was still sleeping. Perhaps that’s why Merlin was unusually quiet, worrying about whether his familiar was okay. 

Arthur found the Round Table, planned an attack (as much as you can plan an attack against immortal soldiers) and later knighted mostly everyone in the room, with the notable exception of Gaius (too old), Gwen (too female), Merlin (too Merlin) and Mordred (too young). They settled in one of the rooms, and Merlin sat near a wall, thinking about the upcoming battle. He wasn’t the only one. He felt more than heard a heavy thud next to him as Percival allowed his weight to sit on the floor next to him. 

“You know, I’m from a small village. I used to help my father out in the fields and dream of being a knight. And hey, look at me, I am a knight. Pity that it looks like I won’t be one for long,” he said, glancing at Merlin. 

“Why are you doing it?” He asked softly.

“People would laugh at me when I told them I wanted to be a knight. They said I was just a village brute that wouldn’t ever amount to nothing. I think I just wanted something to be a part of and Arthur gave me the perfect chance. Why are  _ you  _ doing it?”

Merlin just shrugged. 

“I think we have a chance. We can win Camelot back. As long as Arthur lives, I know there’s hope.”

Percival patted his back.

“I think you have found something to be a part of, too. More like someone, really. Well, I’ll see you on the other side of the fight, Merlin.”

“I’ll see you on the other side of the fight,” the warlock replied as Percival got up and walked away.

He was replaced almost immediately by Gwen.

“You really think you’re going to win this?” She asked nervously.

“I think Arthur’s moment to die isn’t tomorrow, and I am going to make sure it doesn’t happen, whatever it takes.” He replied calmly. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay,” he added and then hugged her. It seemed to be enough to calm Gwen a bit, and she went to talk with Arthur.

Merlin didn’t get any peace though, and after Gaius passed by just to tell him to be careful and not do anything incredibly stupid, Mordred sat by his side.

“Looks like I’m popular tonight,” Merlin commented sarcastically.

“People like you, Emrys. Don’t worry, nobody’s listening. I just wanted to ask you, why do you serve Arthur? I know I owe him my life for helping me escape, but you just seem to be stuck to him like a turtle to its shell,” he replied.

“I believe in the future Arthur will bring for Camelot, a future where we can all be free. And I will do whatever is in my hand to make that future come true and to keep him safe.” It sounded like a warning, and he eyed Mordred cautiously.

“Then we have that much in common at least.” And with those words, he left his side. He was quickly replaced by Elyan.

“You know, despite what Arthur might have said, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t actually force you to come with us. You could… leave. Get a nice little house in your village. Or even wait here. You’re not a knight, Merlin. Your duty to Arthur doesn’t go this far.” Elyan spoke quietly, with a concerned voice.

“You are kind, Elyan, but I will stand at his side for as long as he’ll have me. I am not abandoning Arthur when he needs all of us the most,” he replied.

“You are brave, Merlin,” commented Lancelot, settling by his side as Elyan went to chat with Mordred. “I wonder why he didn’t knight you.” He motioned towards Arthur, and then lowered his voice. “I do hope you have a good trick up your sleeve because I don’t think we’re going to win against even a handful of immortals.”

“I have a small plan that involves me sneaking into the room where they keep the Cup of Life and getting rid of it,” Merlin admitted. 

“And you plan on doing it alone? No, I am going with you.” 

“Noblest of knights, that’s what the stories will tell about you,” Merlin whispered, and Lancelot bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, Lancelot. And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you, Merlin. If you hadn’t sent for me, I wouldn’t be a knight now.” He embraced the warlock and then left to look for Guinevere. 

Gwaine replaced him, but he didn’t say anything. He placed an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and offered him some bread. 

“Well, you’re a knight now. I guess Arthur really impressed you, if he got yo to swear loyalty to him,” the servant teased as he bit on a piece of bread. 

“I just got tired of roaming the world, and Camelot seemed like a good place to settle. My only friend lives there, you know,” he replied with a wide smile. 

Merlin glanced at him.

“Well, sadly now if you find me doing something illegal you have to turn me over to Arthur and watch me rot in a cell,” he joked weakly. 

“Nah, I’m not going to do that. I may have sworn loyalty to Camelot, but you’re the most loyal of us all. Anything illegal you do is probably for a reason,” Gwaine commented offhandedly. Like it wasn’t treason. Like it didn’t make Merlin’s chest ache with the need of telling him everything. 

Why couldn’t he tell Gwaine? He had shown his loyalty to Merlin before. He was doing it now. 

“Hey, um, I think I saw some drapes that we can use as blankets earlier. Maybe we can go check them out?” He asked loudly, making sure the others could hear his bad excuse in case they wondered why they were leaving the room. 

Gwaine blinked and nodded, following him down a set of stairs and around a corner before asking.

“We’re not actually looking for curtains, are we?” He asked, trying to not sound worried. Whatever Merlin was going to ask him, or show him, or do to him, he trusted it wasn’t anything bad. 

“No.” Merlin stopped in the middle of a hallway. It was far enough. He checked to make sure he wasn’t being followed and then turned towards Gwaine.

“You meant it, right? If I told you something like- like I killed someone. You wouldn’t turn on me? Can you promise that?” Merlin asked, looking straight into Gwaine’s eyes.

Gwaine felt very much like Merlin was staring into his soul, which was slightly unnerving and also pretty awesome. 

“I swear,” he replied, placing a hand over his heart. It was a solemn gesture, and it looked out of place in Gwaine, but it was sincere. “Who did you kill?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t kill anyone. I have… I have magic,” Merlin confessed. “I only use it to protect Arthur, I swear-”

Gwaine blinked.

“So that’s why everything caught fire when they were making Arthur and I fight to the death, huh?” He asked, brushing it off. “Merlin, I’m not from Camelot, I’ve seen plenty of sorcerers. I don’t care,” he added, seeing Merlin’s worried face. “But, you know, thank you for trusting me. I will not betray that trust, I swear it on my life,” he promised. “I love you,” he added then, because he did. Merlin had earned a place in his heart the first time they had met, and his trust made Gwaine want to be worthy of it. 

He hadn’t felt like that in a long time. He only remembered that feeling when he remembered his mother, the way she looked at him with kind eyes, or when he remembered his father, back when he was a kid and there was nothing he wished for beyond his father’s pride. He knew it then. He would follow Merlin to the house of the dead and trust him to find his way out. 

Gwaine knelt on the dark hallway before Merlin and offered him his sword.

“I know it’s not something that’s usually done, and it’s probably against code and really weird but, if you’d have me, I would like to be your knight. I know it doesn’t work like that, but my blade is yours to command. Before Arthur’s. Before Camelot’s. My loyalty is, and will always be, with you.” Gwaine felt the blade leave his hands, and then tap his shoulders lightly, before Merlin helped him up. 

It was probably a sin. It was also the rightest thing he had done. He had picked up the language from Lancelot. Perhaps that was why he felt... noble. Like he was making his father proud, wherever he was. He vaguely noticed Merlin putting his sword back on his belt and then wrapping his arms around him, but he hugged him back.

“Well, that was weird, even for me,” Gwaine admitted. “Maybe we should go back before someone comes and asks us why we’re holding each other like lovers in the middle of a dark hallway,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows, which prompted a laugh from Merlin.

“It’s probably a good idea.” They started walking back, but Merlin grabbed his arm when they were just outside the room, stopping him. “I love you too, you know that, right? You’re my best friend.”

Gwaine smiled brightly and winked at him before entering the room.

“Bad news, no curtains, only a lot of dust,” he announced loudly. 

He went with the knights, who had eventually gone to sleep (except for Lancelot, who was still with Gwen), and Merlin drifted naturally towards Arthur. 

“Well, if it isn’t the most useless servant in the kingdom,” Arthur teased him, ruffling his hair. 

“Well, if it isn’t the biggest prat of Camelot,” Merlin replied, smiling at him.

“You know, you really don’t have to come with us,” the prince offered softly.

“I know, but if I don’t go, who’s going to save your royal ass?” Merlin replied easily. He saw the worry in Arthur’s face and sighed. “We’ll be okay, Arthur. Trust me. When have I ever failed you?”

“Never,” Arthur admitted after thinking about it. “But there’s always a first time for everything.”

“Well, then. Let’s use up one of our first times,” Merlin suggested. “Make this the night when you finally hug me? You can’t really keep pretending you care about social class, you just knighted the son of a farmer.”

Arthur eyed him suspiciously.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because it’s dark, and you have that look on your face like the whole world is on your shoulders and you’re alone holding it. And yes, maybe I can’t help you hold the whole world, but I can hold you. And I would very much like to do that.” Merlin whispered, noticing only now that he had been leaning towards Arthur and they were incredibly close.

“Do it, then,” Arthur whispered back.

It took Merlin a moment before he registered his words, but when he did he wrapped his arms around his prince, who actually hugged him back, strong arms surrounding him as Arthur rested his head in Merlin’s shoulder. They stayed like that for some time, until Arthur pulled away.

“You’re right. I do feel like I’m alone.” He stopped, unsure of how to continue. He didn’t know how to say he didn’t want to feel alone, not when the end was so close he could taste it. “I’m tired,” he said instead, because it was much easier.

“Tired of being alone or tired of being awake?” Merlin asked calmly.

“Both,” Arthur admitted, looking at him.

Their eyes met, and then not just their eyes. Merlin kissed him with a kind of tender adoration that made Arthur’s chest ache. It made him feel like he had breathed in too much air and his lungs were too full. He couldn’t stand it, he was drowning. He tried to regain some of his control, tried to push Merlin down onto the floor, but he pulled away.

“Don’t. Everything always depends on you. Let me take this. You’re safe.” Merlin whispered, resting his forehead on Arthur’s, cupping his cheek with his hand.

He wanted to take care of Arthur, and so, like many other times, he forgot himself. He forgot his own feelings in the matter, he forgot that he was just going to get his heart broken, he forgot that Arthur was only feeling lonely, that he was only seeking comfort. He forgot each and every one of those things, deliberately, pushing them away, while he poured everything he was into his hands, into his lips. He wasn’t important. Arthur needed him, and that was all that mattered. 

Arthur had never surrendered once. He found it liberating, allowing himself to be lowered to the floor, finding a blanket on it and something soft under his head (when had it moved there?), as Merlin kept kissing him, and Arthur could have sworn that he was glowing, like the sunlight he had been under through the day was seeping out of his pores. He kept his eyes firmly shut even as they broke apart, trying to catch their breath. He stroked his cheek softly, and he closed his eyes briefly, feeling relaxed for the first time in forever.

The next time he opened them, Merlin was already asleep, pressed to his side.

Everything felt right. There was something that should have been worrying him, but he couldn’t remember what.

He closed his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kissing scene had been around my head for like, 2 weeks, and it ended up being completely different than I had thought. Ah, well. Hope you enjoyed it.


	10. Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic reveal.

It worked out pretty well in the end. The cup had been spilled (Morgana had just used the distraction to walk into the room with the cup and thrown it on the floor, which had made all the undead soldiers turn into fully dead soldiers, which had been pretty useful. An attempt at freeing Uther had been made, but he had ended up being stabbed pretty badly with a sword, and by the time they got to him it was too late. It didn’t quite bother anyone as much as it should have, really. Morgana had kept up appearances by wearing all black for about a week and locking herself up with Mordred, Merlin, and Arthur. She had pretty much adopted the druid, and Merlin had suggested that he could train as a squire until he was old enough to be a knight, which Mordred had been quite enthusiastic about. It had been decided. They had started training together, Merlin learning a bit more sword fighting and also having to be always on edge in case Arthur was trying to do magic, and on top of that, he had to review Arthur’s magic laws during the night. He hadn’t made the announcement yet, but he also wasn’t executing anyone for using magic anymore. 

Merlin was basically exhausted. He just spent his days following Arthur around, and his nights working for him. And so, he got careless. Careless enough that he didn’t notice when Morgana started looking weird at him. If he had, maybe he could have realized his eyes were glowing visibly when Arthur “did magic”, and maybe he could have looked away, or he could have come up with an explanation (something about candlelight, maybe), and not just stared with wide eyes at Morgana when she asked him to stay behind after Arthur was gone and asked him why he was acting like Arthur had magic when he was the warlock.

He had spluttered like an idiot, tried to deny it, and then looked down and admitted that he was behind Arthur’s magic with a small voice.

“Yes, I could see that, and now that I think about it it’s pretty obvious. I’m asking why,” she questioned with a cold voice that suggested that Merlin’s life depended on whether she liked the answer.

“Look, he called me and started saying all this stuff about magic being in the heart of Camelot and I was like  _ oh shit he knows I’m so dead _ and then he went all  _ I have magic _ and I panicked, okay? And then I thought that maybe it could be useful, that it wasn’t so bad, that maybe I would have to hide forever but everyone else wouldn’t and it was probably a bad excuse my head made to justify that I couldn’t tell him I have magic but it was working out pretty well please don’t tell him?” He looked at Morgana with pleading eyes, and she sighed deeply.

“Does anyone else know about this?” She asked.

“Yeah, well, there’s Gaius and, um, Gwaine and Lancelot both know and I’m pretty sure Mordred does too, oh and there’s a dragon but I doubt Arthur talks to dragons anyway. And Alexander but he’s not an actual human and I’m his master so I don’t think he’d rat me out,” he confessed. 

“That’s… you know a dragon?” Morgana was definitely too tired to be having that conversation. She wished he had waited until the morning to ask him. “And two knights of Camelot know that you have magic and you’re still alive?”

“I’m adorable?” He suggested as an explanation and then slumped against the wall. “Please don’t tell Arthur.”

“You know he will have to know eventually, and I don’t think he’ll react too well. Tell him, or I will.”

Merlin nodded. “Give me a few days to prepare, I’ll go say goodbye to Gaius,” he mumbled, defeated.

Morgana nodded, walking away without a word. She didn’t need to say goodbye. She had seen how they interacted, how Arthur had been willing to risk his life for him a week after he had met him. He wasn’t going to kill Merlin. Maybe he’d be mad for a bit, but Gaius and Mordred and those knights and maybe even Morgana could talk sense into him if he was too much of an idiot. It would be alright.

It was not alright. Merlin had gone to his room and told Alex that he was going to confess to Arthur and if he wanted his head, he could have it. Alex had said “you are NOT letting anyone murder you” and enlisted Gaius and Gwaine’s help in convincing him to leave Camelot. They had convinced him. Gwaine had even told him he’d go with him and hadn’t backed out despite Merlin’s attempts to convince him to stay. “I’ve been looking for a place to call home and now that I’ve found it, I’m not going to leave,” he had said, and Merlin had thought he had convinced him until he had added “and that place is by your side”, which had been the moment when Merlin had started crying. He had kept crying as he packed his things and then had cried some more before he started writing, hoping that he would run out of tears and wouldn’t stain the paper with them. 

He wrote everything down, as far as he could remember. He wrote about the first time he had met Kilgarrah, how he had told him about his destiny, how something had pushed him to save Arthur. How he had come to accept that destiny only because he was pretty sure he would’ve done the same thing if it was his choice anyway, once he had come to know Arthur. He didn’t write about Morgana’s betrayal (that wasn’t his secret to share), but he wrote instead about how he had met his father, about Freya, about everything he had lost and he had never really talked about. Once he started, he couldn’t quite stop. 

He wrote about Arthur, too. He wrote about how he had changed, and how proud he was of the king he was becoming. He wrote about how he had changed Merlin too, and that he wasn’t so sure he was proud of himself, but he had given him a purpose, something big to be a part of, and he would always be grateful for that. He begged him to not punish the magic community for his treason, reminded him that people like Morgana would be there to protect him now and that other people didn’t deserve to suffer because of him. He asked Arthur to trust his instincts and to be happy.

He wrote that he loved him, and he probably always would. That he had never wanted to lie to him, but he had never had another option. That everything he had done, he had done with the best intention, and never to cause Arthur any harm. 

He went to Arthur’s chambers late the next evening, to leave the letter, with a horse waiting for him at the stables. Arthur wasn’t asleep like he had hoped he would.

“Merlin? What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I, uh, nothing really, what are you doing here?”

“This is my room. Did you hit your head or something?” Arthur eyed him suspiciously. 

“I just… wanted to talk to you?” Merlin tried. “About…” He tried to think of something he would go to Arthur’s room to talk about in the middle of the night.

Luckily, Arthur had been having his own ideas.

“About what happened between us?” He asked. “The night before we got Camelot back?”

Merlin had nearly forgotten about that. 

“Uh, yeah, right, I just wanted to say that it didn’t mean anything and that I understand that it was just because you were lonely and I don’t want things to be weird?” Merlin forced a smile.

Arthur blinked. That was not how he had expected the conversation to go. He had hoped that Merlin would tell him something more along the lines of  _ I couldn’t stop thinking about you _ or  _ I’ve been secretly in love with you since the day I met you and I can’t keep it in anymore _ . He had hoped for more kisses, more hugging, maybe more other things. He had fantasized about  _ coming here in the middle of the night, what will the people think _ and  _ I’ll give them something to think about _ and using the incredibly large bed Arthur owned. 

“...Arthur?” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. It was just that, right? Close the door on your way out,” he snapped at him, turning again to face the pile of papers he had been working on. 

He didn’t notice the envelope on his bed until he went to sleep on it the following night and he found the bed still not made and realized he hadn’t seen Merlin for the whole day (well, he had noticed and thought he was just avoiding Arthur because he had acted like a prat the night before). There was just his name, written in Merlin’s handwriting, and what looked like a very large stack of papers, again in his handwriting but much smaller. It took Arthur the whole night to read them. As soon as he finished, he jumped out of bed and went to get his horse, cursing to himself. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he found Merlin. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to kill him, but what if he didn’t want to go back to Camelot anyway? What if by ‘I love you’ he meant ‘as a friend who might want to kill me’?

Merlin and Gwaine were just lifting camp when the sound of a horse startled them. Gwaine drew his sword quietly and told Merlin to run. He stared at him like he was stupid. 

“Most powerful wizard alive, remember?” He whispered, grabbing the staff he had brought with him. Alexander was on his other side in human form, fists raised. Arthur came into the clearing, stopping when he saw the trio in a defensive stance. He remembered the dark guy who was next to Merlin with his fists raised from the garden, then there was Merlin, holding a very weird looking long stick, and then…

“Gwaine? Aren’t you a knight of Camelot? What are you doing here?” Arthur demanded, taking a step forward, to which Gwaine responded raising his sword, ready to fight. 

“Gwaine, it’s alright.” Merlin cut in before they started swinging at each other with their swords. 

He hadn’t been sure about running away in the first place. Alexander had been very sure that it was the right thing to do, and Gwaine had told him that if Arthur hurt him he’d cut his head off personally. But Merlin’s job was done, Arthur was protected and he was king already, and he would be a great one. He wasn’t needed. And, if Arthur hated him enough to follow him out of Camelot to hunt him down, maybe it was right for him to die for what he had done. He lowered Gwaine’s arm, thinking in Alexander’s direction:  _ Get him out of here. _

“Go. I’ll take care of it, come on.” Alexander grabbed Gwaine’s arm and pretty much dragged him away. Merlin threw the staff on the floor and dropped to his knees, lowering his head. “Well then, make it quick.”

Arthur huffed and stuck the sword into the ground.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, annoyed. Did Merlin really think Arthur would be able to hurt him? Weren’t they at least friends? “Do you really think I care for you so little that a couple lies to save your ass would make a difference?” Merlin didn’t answer, and Arthur grabbed his shirt roughly, forcing him to get back on his feet. 

“I’m sorry, I…” The sorcerer looked down. “I knew magic was illegal, and I came anyway, but this is who I am and I always tried to protect you,” he mumbled.

“I know that. I read your letter. I understand why you didn’t tell me, and I can see why you allowed me to believe I had magic. But even after that, you couldn’t even tell me to my face? You run away like this? You really thought I would hurt you?” Arthur shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of great king you expected me to be, killing off my most loyal servant because he was a great big idiot. And don’t misunderstand me, I’m pretty mad that you thought I wouldn’t understand magic wasn’t evil unless I was directly affected and that you tricked me, but I still wouldn’t hang you for that.” 

Merlin still wasn’t looking at him. “Maybe not, but how could you ever trust me again?”

“Maybe I won’t trust you to tell me the truth, but I trust you to want only what’s best for me, so that’s gotta count for something. I’d still trust you with my life, not that I expect you to return the favor,” he replied. His friend had the decency to look ashamed. “And really? You’re complaining I won’t trust you after all this? Apparently you trust Gwaine and some random servant more than me,” Arthur pointed out. “Or does everyone know and I’m the only idiot who doesn’t?”

“No, just Lancelot - he saw me, Arthur, I didn’t tell him,” he explained when Arthur glared at him, “Gaius saw me too the first day, and Mordred can do mind talking with magical people or something. I only told Gwaine because I knew he’d keep my secret and he’s been around other kingdoms so he’s not as prejudiced about magic.”

“And that Alexander guy?”

“He’s a familiar spirit, they can sense that,” he shrugged.

Arthur relaxed slightly. So that’s why they were so close. He was feeling very tired all of a sudden.

“Is there anything else I should know?” He asked, pulling his sword from the ground.

“Well, you already know about the magic and that I’m a Dragon Lord, and the whole destiny thing… I think that’s all,” he said softly, looking back at where Alexander had disappeared with Gwaine. 

“I won’t hold it against him, I know he was just being a good friend. He’s loyal to you, and you are loyal to me, so it’s probably okay. Let’s go home?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

Merlin looked at him for a few seconds and then smiled.

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is pretty much finished, probably something like 2 chapters more? It's the first time I'm so close to finishing a fic, so thank you to everyone who decided to give it a go, thank you for the comments and kudos!  
> Also yes, the title is yet another Hamilton reference, also the part where he starts writing everything down, and I threw a Doctor Who quote to the mix just to give it variety I guess?


	11. Façade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur wonders why Merlin keeps hiding things from him. Merlin is just an idiot. Gaius' eyebrow makes a stellar appearance.

It took them almost a whole month to finish the new laws on magic, even with Merlin often staying up all night to work on them with Morgana, but as soon as they were done, Arthur lifted the ban on magic, released the prisoners who were in for sorcery and instated the new laws. He also offered a public apology to magic users for the discrimination they had suffered (which had actually been written by Morgana). Merlin had only asked to keep serving Arthur, and Arthur had been quite happy to keep him around. 

He was curious about Merlin’s magic, but he never seemed to do magic around him, even if he had lifted the ban on it. He tried asking the warlock about it, and only got a shrug. “Force of habit, probably,” he had told him, not looking up from where he was making the bed, and then had asked him whether he had chosen someone to be his queen, which had bothered him enough that he had stopped thinking about magic.

Arthur wasn’t into the whole loveless marriage thing. He had considered Guinevere since he had loved her, and then he had realized that she was most definitely completely smitten by Lancelot and that it didn’t bother him at all. He had also realized he was most definitely completely smitten by his manservant, who kept shrugging off any attempts to talk about his magic and asking him when he was going to choose a queen for Camelot. 

He decided that maybe Gaius could help him. He knocked on his door lightly before entering the physician’s chambers. Gaius raised an eyebrow at him. He did it a lot, but it never seemed to lose effect. 

“Merlin is up in his room,” he supplied, pointing at the wooden door behind him.

Arthur realized that he had only been in Merlin’s bedroom a couple of times. He then stopped thinking about Merlin’s bedroom.

“I wanted to speak with you,” he replied. “About him.” Receiving no answer but an even more raised eyebrow, he continued. “He never tells me about his magic.”

“Well, Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer alive. And some say he _ is _ magic. He was born with it. And he uses it to protect you and to make his tasks easier.” Gaius spoke calmly. “There are prophecies written about him, and the druids call him Emrys, which means immortal. The prophecies say he is something like your other half, destined to be by your side while you rule Albion. I have seen him use his magic, really impressive, almost gave me a couple of heart attacks while magic was still banned.”

“And why doesn’t he show me any of it?” Arthur asked, glancing at the wooden door. “Why does he keep hiding from me?”

“Well, I think you need to talk about that with him, sire.”

Gaius was helpful sometimes, and other times he just stated obvious things that were still a bit helpful.

“Sure, thank you.” Arthur nodded and then jumped up the few steps that led to Merlin’s door and swung it open. 

A heavy-looking book that was hovering over Merlin’s head while he fixed some leather on a wooden sheath for a very fancy sword that was on the foot of his bed fell on the warlock’s head, and he looked up at Arthur guiltily, rubbing his head where it had hit him.

“You do know that the ban on magic has been lifted, right? You don’t have to hide it.” Arthur walked towards the sword. “Where did you get this?”

“Oh, um, I actually got it from the armory and then got a dragon to breathe fire on it and now it’s magical and can kill dead people? I was going to give it to you, but I wanted to finish the scabbard first,” he admitted softly. “It was made for you, after all. You do have to promise that nobody else will use it, a dragon made me promise that.”

Arthur took the sword and wrapped it in the piece of cloth that was under it, placing it on the floor afterward. He sat where it had been on the bed, looking at Merlin and trying to find the immortal, incredibly powerful wizard. He looked more like a scared boy. 

“I’m serious, Merlin. You don’t have to hide your magic. You don’t have to hide who you are, never again.” The warlock tensed up when he heard the last part. “Why don’t you ever use magic when I’m around?” Merlin looked away. “Look at me and answer the question,” he commanded, although it sounded more like a plea. 

“I lied to you, Arthur, for most of the time we have known each other. And when you learned about it, you didn’t punish me. You didn’t even mention it again. So I thought that maybe, with all your duties as a king… you had just forgotten about it. And that, if I did magic in front of you, you would remember that I had betrayed you, and you’d hate me.” His voice broke, and he looked down, small and fragile, not at all the powerful wizard from the legends, but also not the cheery manservant. “I couldn’t- If you hated me, I- I’m sorry, Arthur, I’m so sorry.”

“Well, I thought if I told you how I really felt you’d just run away,” Arthur admitted, and suddenly he wasn’t sure whether he was just talking about Merlin’s lies anymore. “And I also couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I’m still disappointed, Merlin. Yes, you lied to me for a good reason, and I forgive you for hiding your magic from me. I can even see how making me believe I had magic helped me see that it’s not evil. But you keep hiding from me. And I don’t know why.”

The warlock looked back up at him. 

“There are things I still can’t tell you. It’s just better that you don’t know. Some things about me are best just… left unsaid.” He whispered.

“Why? Don’t I have the right to judge whether I want to know or not?” Arthur shot back, a bit annoyed.

“Well…”

“I thought we were  _ friends _ . You don’t hide from your friends! You’re supposed to trust me!” Arthur raised his voice, increasingly frustrated. “Why do you keep hiding how you feel?!”

“Because I want you like I haven’t ever wanted anyone and it scares me!” Merlin shouted back at him before his brain had time to tell him to shut up. He went pale. 

Arthur stared at him.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Arthur kept staring.

“I… maybe I should just go.”

“Why would that be a bad thing?” asked Arthur finally, after regaining control of his body.

“Because you’re my king? Because the future of Camelot depends on you marrying someone who can give you children to continue your lineage?” Merlin frowned at him, confused. “Because you don’t want me like that? Because you… don’t, right?”

“Perhaps I do,” Arthur admitted, trying to sound like someone with a normal heart rate and whose palms were not sweating.

“Oh,” replied Merlin, trying to sound like someone who could breathe and who could absolutely think about something that wasn’t how much he wanted to kiss Arthur, thank you very much.

Actually, he couldn’t. Especially when Arthur leaned forward, grabbed his jaw, and kissed him. It was definitely impossible to think about how Camelot needed a queen and an heir, and how Merlin wasn’t good enough for Arthur and obviously not worth the trouble. Those thoughts could wait. The kissing was happening now, and that was the most important thing in the world for all he cared.

Arthur could feel a gentle warmth under his fingers, something that felt different than just normal body heat. He heard a flutter and opened his eyes to find something that looked like a swarm of bright blue and golden butterflies appearing out of thin air around Merlin, and he pulled back to stare at them and then at the sorcerer, who opened his eyes. Arthur sucked in a breath.

“Woah. Your eyes- they’re gold. Woah.” Arthur was vaguely conscious that he was not being eloquent at all, but he was busy being very conscious of the golden glow that was slowly fading from Merlin’s eyes, and the way his cheeks were flushed pink, and how his lips were still parted, and how his chest was rising and falling with his breath. 

“Yeah, they do that when I do magic,” Merlin replied. And then, shyly, “Do you… want to see more?”

Arthur grinned.

“I want to see everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit late but well, that's pretty much the end. There will be an epilogue after this to how they solve the situation and how everyone takes the news. And maybe a second part where they just go on adventures but Merlin has magic and isn't hiding it anymore.


End file.
